The Quickening
by Hawki
Summary: It was something of a curiosity to the elves, when humanity first arrived in their lands. It was even more of a curiosity when the two races proved to be biologically compatible, capable of producing offspring. Yet curiosity turned to fear as all children remained human, as their immortality waned. Yet there are emotions that can overcome fear. And love is among them.
1. Respite

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**Dragon Age: The Quickening**

**Chapter 1: Respite**

The boy's birth surprised everyone.

Of course, the events leading up to the moment had come as a surprise to everyone, human and elf alike. It had come as a surprise to the Men of Par Vollen that a humanoid race inhabited the lands on the other side of the Venefication Sea. It had come as a surprise to the elves that such a race existed to the north, one that seemed to live and die in the blink of an eye. It had come as a surprise to both sides that they were able to co-exist peacefully despite early initial violence. Even if the humans' lives were brief and inconsequential, even if they were nothing but a group of scattered tribes that would never amount to anything outside their so-called "Imperium", they had their worth as trading partners, and even as a curiosity for those inclined to the study of anatomy.

No-one had expected a coupling though. No-one had expected _this_.

Kumari breathed heavily as priests of Mythal, the Great Protector, did their best to ease the process of bringing…something into the world. It was cold comfort-their efforts were earnest, but childbirth was rare amongst an immortal people. Little reason to do so biologically, and when you had eternity before you, there was certainly no rush to go through the messy process that every other mortal animal in this world was a slave to. Unfortunately, Strenec was human. Unfortunately, Strenec would only live for a few more decades at the most before losing his life to mishap or natural courses. Unfortunately, one thing had led to another and before long, Kumari and her people had learnt that apparently, elves and Men were biologically compatible.

Of course, as Strenec held her hand, as he reassured her and kissed her forehead in his oh so mortal manner…infortune wasn't on Kumari's mind. Instead, she felt blessed. What was happening was a miracle. What was happening shouldn't have been possible. What was happening…well, as she pushed, as she gasped, as she heard the cry of an infant before her…clearly the pantheon had smiled on her.

"And thus new life enters the world," one of the priests intoned. "May Mythal watch over him. May Elgar'nan make him strong. May…"

"You…can keep going…" Kumari said, regaining her breath and taking comfort from Strenec's grip. "I…he…is alright, isn't he?"

"Fine…" the priest said. "Fine…"

Kumari could tell from her kin's words that not everything was fine. That while the priests cut the child's umbilical cord and wrapped it in a blanket before handing it to her, their minds were not at ease. But as they handed her son to her, as she looked down at her baby…she could barely see anything wrong at all.

"Your son," the priest said to Strenec, using the man's own language as best he could. "May you live long enough to see him grow."

"He will…" Kumari assured her kin, having picked up human language bar better than the priest before her. She looked up and smiled at her…partner, the term "husband" one that too many people of both kindreds might give umbridge for. "For what it's worth…we'll enjoy our time together."

"Of course," the priest said. "And may your son enjoy that time as well."

Kumari remained silent. Something was on the man's mind. Yet looking at the infant in her arms…flat ears, a face that was distinctly un-elvish, a body that seemed more like Strenec's than her own…it was strange how little he took after her. Or elves at all for that matter. Mules incorporated aspects of both horses and donkeys, but her son seemed to take only after one species.

Maybe that was how these couplings would work, the elf supposed. Perhaps they would be one or the other. Perhaps…perhaps she'd outlive her own son. It was a horrible thought, but as she stroked his face, as his tiny hand grasped her own…she cast those thoughts into the Fade. His life, whether short or long, was in her hands. And she would-…

"So…another human."

The elf looked up. Most of the priests had exited the nursery, but one lingered by the door. Dark haired, dark eyed…she looked more like a follower of Elgar'nan than the motherhood god.

"What do you mean…another human?" Kumari asked. "You mean Strenec?"

"No, I mean your son. Another human born to an elf and one of his own kind."

Kumari looked up at Strenec. If he understood the priest's words, he showed no sign. Maybe that was just as well. Because the woman's discomfort at Kumari's son and his father rang clear, even if it was lost in translation to one who didn't speak the language.

"Another one…?" Kumari asked. "But…there's never been a human and elf coupling until now. There's-…"

"That's what the leaders of our people want you to believe," the priest said. "But since you're in that group of elves who've been fucked by brutes, I may as well reveal that there's more than you think. You're not the first elf mother of a human child. You probably won't be the last either. You're simply the latest in a line of inter-species couplings that have yet to produce an elven child, ever."

Kumari stared, unable to believe the woman's words.

_This…this isn't right…_she told herself. _More couplings? A human child every time? What…how is that even possible?_

She looked up at her husband. He looked down at her and his son. With love, but she felt…uneasy about it.

And in her arms, her baby began to cry.


	2. Revulsion

**Dragon Age: The Quickening**

**Chapter 2: Revulsion**

"I want to see Mother."

"She's busy."

"She's immortal. I think she has the time."

Taal walked past Sala, ignoring the elf's condescending look that he seemed to reserve for all individuals that weren't of his own species. The look that he reserved for his nephew every time he saw him. The look that Taal told himself his real father would have never shown him, even if he'd never known the man.

"Fine," the elf grunted. "Disturb her. Waste your precious life on my sister."

_You don't shut up, you'll get to realize how precious life can be, _Taal thought. But apart from his thoughts, he ignored his uncle and walked into his home.

For ten years of his life, Taal had only set foot in the forests outside Candelis, and in the village itself. It was small, nothing ever seemed to occur and all talk of him being allowed to visit Elvhenan or the growing Tevinter Imperium were answered with "when you're older." For ten years, he'd been denied. For ten years, he'd never even seen a member of his own kind. For ten years, he'd spent time in the company of adults, all of whom seemed to treat him like some kind of vermin, the only human ever born of an elf. And after those ten years, he'd had enough.

The youth burst into his mother's study. The one person who had ever given him a sign of respect or affection. The one person who always seemed to be busy, despite her immortality. The person who'd casually forgotten that it was his birthday.

She looked up. "Taal?"

"Yes, Mother, it's me," he said, quickly taking a seat opposite her. "Nice to see you too."

"Is something wrong? Is-…"

"It's my birthday, Mother."

Kumari stared at him. Taal stared back. It was a contest that he knew that he was going to lose, at least if he wanted to stare without blinking. First reason of being a human surrounded by elves? They were better than you. And over time, more of them had seemed intent on reminding him of it.

"And so it is…" his mother said. "How could I have forgotten?"

"I…" Taal trailed off. He hadn't expected her to actually acknowledge it. Birthdays were rarely celebrated by her kind, but from what he'd learnt of his own, they were celebrated once every year, and made the most of.

"Well then…" she said, getting to her feet and sliding a parchment to one side. "I suppose we'd best get going."

Taal remained silent. "Get going" was a phrase that translated into "get your bow, I'm taking you into the woods to have fun." Usually, it was a phrase that he greeted with joy. But as the years drew on, as he felt like more of an outsider, it was a phrase that he'd come to realize also meant "but no matter how hard you try, I'll always be a better shot than you."

Taal followed his mother out into the hall, noticing as he always did how even her movements seemed more refined than his. Movements that never gave away their position to a deer or bird, whereas he seemed cursed to tread upon every damn twig in the damn forest. And as time had gone by, he'd noticed how he seemed to owe nothing of his own existence to her. He had brown hair, brown eyes, a nose that was crooked after he broke it at the age of three, and a build that while strong, made him feel like he was a barbarian amongst royalty. In contrast, her form was slender, her hair golden, her eyes blue, her features kind, soft and according to her brother, beautiful…Taal didn't doubt that she was his mother. Not really. But he sometimes wondered whether he might have been found as an infant or something, like out of the storybooks she used to read him. Whatever he had, it seemed to only come from his father. And as he had succumbed to plague when his son was but a year old, he had no way of knowing. All that there was to hear about him was what his mother wished to impart.

"Here," Kumari said, handing Taal his bow. "I'll get the arrows."

Taal nodded and stood in place in the house's main room, one that was mainly a dining area. A dining area that was rarely filled to capacity-Sala had moved in after Taal's father had died apparently, wanting to look after his sister. And to look after her son as well supposedly, but as Taal had noticed, it was a job he took on grudgingly. And as he walked inside the house, as he smirked at the human before him, Taal could tell it was going to be one of those moments. A moment where he was reminded of how out of place he really was.

"So…" Sala began. "Going hunting I see."

"Oh no Uncle, I'm going to use this bow as an oar," Taal shot back.

The elf's smirk didn't diminish. "See your tongue has its usual wit. You're good at speaking the language at least."

Taal didn't have an answer for that. He spoke Elven fluently-it was the only language he'd ever spoken. He'd often wondered about meeting his own kind, and if he did so, how he'd even communicate.

"Well, enjoy it," his uncle concluded. "You only have a few decades left after all."

Taal remained impassive even as his uncle made his way to his own room to do Dirthamen-knew what. One day, he was going to die. One day, he would join Falon'Din, Friend of the Dead. It had bothered him once, but now…he'd come to accept it.

"And here we are," he heard his mother say, bringing arrows and quivers for them. "Ready to go?"

Taal remained silent. Sala…death…

"Taal?"

Ostracization…his mother's work…what was she doing anyway?

"Taal, are you-…"

"Mother…I…never mind."

Taal put his bow down. Just holding it felt wrong.

"Taal, are you alright?" Kumari asked.

The youth remained silent. He hated moments like these. Most of the time, he took the sneers in his stride. Most of the time, he could derive some happiness. Most of the time, he could keep his frustration bottled up. But now…he'd heard of the saying that a piece of straw could break a donkey's back. And as his lip quivered, as his hands shook…he'd had enough.

It was at times like this when all he could do was break into tears, run to his mother and bury his face in her chest, letting the tears flow.

"I hate this…" he sobbed. "I hate it…I hate it…I **hate it!"**

Kumari didn't hesitate. She simply pulled her arms around her son and drew him in closer. Most of the time, she was busy. It had seemed that way as long as he could remember. Something to do with study of the medicinal effects of herbs that grew in the forest, though what elves needed with medicine he didn't know. All he knew was that he was an outsider. An outcast. Some lower lifeform that had no place in elven lands, yet couldn't hope to survive in the lands of his own people.

"Oh, there he goes," came a voice. "It was only a matter of time."

Taal didn't look up. He couldn't meet Sala's gaze. Not those grey, contemptuous eyes. Eyes that would see his own tear-stained ones.

His mother let go of him. Apparently she couldn't bear the touch of him either. Fair enough. He just sat down on one of the chairs and waited for the tears to stop coming.

"Just let him cry sister," he heard Sala say. "The sooner he learns he can't hunt, the sooner he-…"

Sala stopped talking for some reason. His face to the floor, Taal couldn't see why. But he did hear what sounded like a slap, some whispered words from his mother and a curse from his uncle. It was a sound followed by that of heavy footfalls (apparently elves could make noise if they wanted to), the slamming of a door and softer footfalls coming over to him.

"Taal?" Kumari asked.

The boy remained silent.

"What Sala said. He…didn't mean it."

Taal still kept facing the ground. He kept facing it right until his mother knelt down, put her hands on his cheeks and made him face her.

"Taal, no matter what he says…what _anyone _says…I love you. Please…" She seemed on the verge of tears herself, but nonetheless managed to kiss him on the forehead. "Never forget that."

Taal smiled faintly and embraced her.

For the first time at weeks, he felt like he was at home.


	3. Revelation

**Dragon Age: The Quickening**

**Chapter 3: Revelation**

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"I…talk…moch?"

"Much. Talk much."

Taal smiled sheepishly. And the trader grinned back.

Despite not speaking human languages fluently, Taal was enjoying himself. Over the last eight years, he'd studied what he could from the books his mother had provided him. Over the last eight years, he'd buried himself in those books because the people of Candelis were treating him with even more disdain. And now, after eight years, a band of traders had entered the village, claiming to hail from the Tevinter Imperium. Humans. Fellow humans.

And to Taal's joy, they looked just like him.

"I see you're becoming a man…" the merchant said, gesturing to the stubble that was on Taal's chin. "You're what…seventeen?"

"Eigh…eigh…"

"Eighteen?"

Taal nodded.

"And you're happy here?"

Taal remained silent. He understood the words. But he didn't know how to answer it.

Over the last eight years, things had changed. Sala was gone-he'd travelled Elvhenan on what he referred to as "Imperium business." Kumari could take care of her son on her own now, especially since her son, despite being a youngling to an immortal people, was becoming a man. Taal had recalled that he'd wanted her to join him, referring to something he called the quickening and the supposed dangers of keeping her son close, but neither of them had ever elaborated on it. And since seeing his uncle's backside was a welcome sight, Taal hadn't pressed the issue.

On the other hand…something was happening. The elves, once carefree and idle, seemed on edge. He knew that messages came and went from across the land, but usually those messages were few and far between. But now…something was happening. Something they refused to elaborate on, even when he got them talking to him. Even his mother seemed to be in on it. And when it came to his mother itself…

"You alright?"

Taal turned back to face the trader. "Hmm?"

"Huh…looked like you were off in the Fade or something."

"I…fine," Taal said.

The trader nodded. "I see. Well, I'll be off."

Being off in this case meant moving on to join in the exchange of goods his caravan was taking part in with the village folk. A trade that he seemed to revel in, yet the elves seemed to resent. It was cold comfort, in a sense, seeing that their disdain for his kind didn't stop at him alone. And given what the merchant had offered him…well, that was comfort of a much warmer kind.

It was with the offer in mind that he quickly headed back to his house. He had a few days at least, but he wanted to get the idea out. He wanted to talk to his mother about it. And with this desire, he walked into her study.

"Taal?" she asked, looking up from a scroll. "What are-…"

"Nalsen's offered to let me join him."

The elf stared at her son.

"Nalsen," Taal repeated. "The trader. He's offered to…show me the ropes, or whatever it was he said. Offered me a place. Offered to show me the Imperium."

Kumari remained silent. She just sat there…staring.

"I mean…I haven't given him an answer yet…" Taal said awkwardly. "It's just…"

"Go."

The youth now stared in turn. One word. That was all she said.

"Mother?" he asked slowly. "Is something…wrong?"

"No…I'm fine…" the elf said. She smiled tiredly. "Really…"

She wasn't fine. Taal knew she hadn't been fine for a long time. Emotionally, she was still the same person she'd always been. But physically? She always seemed tired now. She moved more slowly, she often complained of aches and pains. Her hair had lost its lustre, her eyes their shine…it was as if she was growing older. If such a thing was even possible. It was a crazy thought, but Taal had started to wonder who was exactly looking after who.

"Mum…" the young man said. "If you want me to stay…"

"No," Kumari said. "You're human. Those traders are humans. You're a young man now. I think it's time you…spread your wings."

"But you're my mother," Taal said. "I can't just leave you."

"Course you can." She again gave a tired smile. "I'm fine, Taal. Really."

Taal remained silent, casting his eyes to the parchments, all of them either herbal remedies, letters, or letters to do with said remedies. She'd become increasingly busy lately. With what exactly, he wasn't sure, because the last time he checked, elves didn't suffer from sickness.

"Well…" the human said eventually. "I guess I better get going."

"Yes…" Kumari said. "I suppose you should."

Nodding, the youth headed for the door.

"Taal?"

He turned around.

"Taal…" his mother said. "I…"

She rose to her feet. Or tried to at least. Because as she did so, she slipped, falling to the ground and sending parchments flying. Taal reached out to help her, but failed. And while he could have continued the motion, he stopped. Because one parchment, previously face-down, had landed face-up. It was written in Elvish. And after seeing the words written on it, all thoughts of family were cast aside.

_Kumari,_

_Like you, we are concerned with the effects of the quickening. I won't lie. This is fast becoming an epidemic. After nearly two decades since the first human-elf births were recorded, there has not been a single instance of any such coupling resulting in an elf child, or even a true hybrid. To date, all recorded births have been humans only._

_Over the last five years, elves have started succumbing to age and disease. We believe that this…quacking…is directly related to these births. Even being in contact with these animals seems to be costing us our years. While there is more research to be done, we recommend that your son, Taal, son of Strenec, depart from your residence. Future contact, if any, should be kept to a minimum._

_We appreciate your correspondence over the last eighteen years. We appreciate that you have paid a heavy burden by keeping your son close to you. We hope that your condition can be rectified. Until then, keep all human contact to a minimum, including Taal. We do not judge you for the mistake you made with Strenec, and hopefully, we can learn from it._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Healer Indore_

"Taal…" Kumari whispered.

The human remained silent. His hands were shaking, his breath was heavy, yet no words escaped his lips.

"Taal…" the elf said, this time more firmly.

Her son still remained silent.

"Taal, I-…"

"_Don't talk to me."_

Taal raised his gaze in time to see his mother recoil at the savagery of the words.

"This…" the teen whispered, gesturing to the parchment. "This…is what you've been hiding. All this time. What _everyone _has."

"Taal, you-…"

"Other people like me…my father, a _mistake_…me…some _burden_…"

"Taal, you weren't-…"

"I'm sorry, _Mother_," Taal spat. "I'm sorry to have been some mistake born to you because father couldn't keep his fly zipped."

"Don't say that," Kumari said firmly. "Don't you ever-…"

"Or did you open up your fly first?" Taal continued. "Maybe you thought it would be fun. What would it be like, sleeping with an _animal_?"

"Taal!" Kumari yelled. "I won't have you speaking like-…"

"Like what? Some savage? Some grunt who can't even speak the language properly?"

Language…it was a sore spot. A sore spot because while he could speak his mother's language fluently, his mastery of Tevinter tongues was limited. But right now, that mattered little to him. Right now, that was the least of his concerns.

"Well, don't worry Mother…" Taal snarled. "Because I'll do what the letter says. I'll leave."

"Taal, I don't want you to leave," Kumari begged. "The letter…it makes the suggestion, but-…"

"I'm going to leave," Taal snarled. "I'm going to go with my own _animal kind_. I'm going to walk out that door, and I'm going to never, _ever_, look back."

He turned around. He walked out the study door. He walked out the front door. He walked all the way to Nalsen and said (broken words aside) that he was going to leave with him, and until he was ready, didn't want to spend another second within sight of the village.

He never looked back.


	4. Return

**Dragon Age: The Quickening**

**Chapter 4: Return**

"Here we are. Home sweet home."

"Is it, Sala?"

"It was yours. And while I resent what you did, you at least deserve a chance to indulge my sister's delusions."

Taal nodded. Spurring his horse on, he descended down the hill to Candelis.

"I've said my goodbyes, nephew. This will be the last time you see me."

Taal remained silent. He had nothing left to say. Not to his uncle at least.

It had been ten years since he'd last been here. Ten years since he'd realized who and what he really was. Someone whose true place was outside the village. Someone who could make a life as a trader. Someone who was so skilled with a bow that he'd accepted an offer for recruitment into a regiment's archer detachment. Someone who now, at the age of twenty-eight, spoke Tevinter languages fluently, was battle hardened and until Sala had found him, hadn't given elves much of a second thought.

And then his uncle had come. Clad in armour. Had come telling him what he already knew, that the elves were retreating into isolation, their contact with humans somehow affecting their immortality. For his part, his uncle had looked exactly the same. For his part, he'd treated him the same. But his words had never been spoken before to him.

"You're mother's dying."

Taal glanced back at the hill, Sala and his horse already out of sight. He grudgingly acknowledged that he owed him for his actions. Or at least the thought behind them. Because right now, as he approached his old house, now looking as dusty and deserted as every other dwelling in the village, he wasn't sure why he was still here. Why he hadn't ridden off and been among people who didn't look down on him.

Still, as he dismounted his horse and knocked softly on the door, he supposed it was a moot point.

"Mother?" Taal asked. "It's me. It's…it's your son."

There was no answer. Part of the man's mind wanted to take that as an excuse to leave. But the house wasn't silent. He couldn't see anything in the dark, but he could hear what sounded like a fire on the other side of the door. And after opening the door, he couldn't only hear the fire, but see it as well. And he could also see a figured sitting by it, staring into the flame.

"Kumari?" Taal asked.

The figure coughed.

"Mother?"

The figure coughed again, but at least made a movement beyond that. Shrugging, Taal moved into the room, to see her face.

"Mother, I…"

And he fell silent.

She was alive. But that was all that could be said in regards to positive comments on her health. Grey hair, a wrinkled face, her clothes draped around a skinny frame…it had been ten years, and it looked like she'd aged nearly ten times that number.

"Mother, I…"

"The quickening…" Kumari rasped. "Gets to everyone. Especially when you've lived for a few centuries already."

Taal just stared. Kumari stared back. And all thoughts of what he was going to say, of the speech titled "this is your fault," slipped away. For the first time since he'd heard the news, Taal reflected that he'd left _her_. Had left her and never looked back until now.

"So…" Kumari said. "Here we are…"

Taal nodded. He stood there for a moment before talking off his cloak-a crimson red one, the colour of the Imperium. He draped it around her, taking her hand as he did so.

"You're cold…" he murmured.

"I've been cold for ten years…" Kumari said. She looked up and smiled. "But thanks for the cloak."

Taal remained silent. He was glad he'd left his armour behind. He didn't want the differences between them to grow even further.

"So…" Kumari said. "I suppose Sala has told you what's happening." She coughed for a few moments before continuing. "I suppose news of my people's isolation has spread."

Taal nodded. "It has."

"And what are your people doing about it?"

Taal shrugged, trying to ignore the term "your people." "Don't know. I'm just a soldier."

"And you like that?"

Taal shrugged. "Keeps me fed. I'm good with a bow. You taught me…well, mum. I…"

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he cried. He was a captain after all, and couldn't afford to show emotion. But looking at his mother like this, like some…beggar…like some woman at the end of a life of mere decades…he knelt down.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered. "I'm so _sorry_…"

Kumari sighed…though it sounded like a wheeze. "Don't be…" she said. "It was inevitable."

"Inevitable? I-…"

His mother held up a hand.

"Taal, I should apologise. But before I do, I want you to know something. I want you to know the truth."

Taal stared at her as she started coughing. He wanted to make it stop. Wanted it more than anything.

"Taal, I knew from the moment you were born that you weren't unique. I knew over eighteen years that someday you'd have to leave. I knew that I'd have to tell you the truth. I knew that I was being selfish, that I was keeping you in a miserable life, and I was doing it for my own selfish reasons."

"Selfish?" Taal asked. "How were you selfish? Just by keeping me, you were shortening your life."

"Selfish…" Kumrai reflected. "Because I was letting you be a guinea pig. Some…marker to observe the quickening. Or at least, that's what I told the healers. I told them that I'd make a mistake with your father, that I was willing to fix it by seeing how you affected me."

Taal remained silent.

"But I lied to them as well, Taal. I lied to them about everything. Because what they never knew, or understood, was that I loved your father. I loved him more than anything else at the time. I loved him so much that losing him was a pain unlike anything I've ever felt, or will ever feel again."

Taal tried to smile. He failed. The thought of his mother not feeling anything else…she couldn't…

"But I kept on," she continued. "I kept going on, because as much as I loved your father, I loved…_love_ you…even more. I looked at you, and saw Strenec. I looked at you, and I saw my son, no matter what anyone else said. I looked at you for eighteen years, watching you grow more in that time than my people do in decades. And looking at you now, all grown up…" She trailed off, looking like she was about to cough, but instead stifling a sob. "I'm proud, Taal. So very proud. And if my death is the price of your life…even if it's a life of a few decades…well, it's worth it. It was worth every day of those eighteen years."

Taal remained silent. So did Kumari. In fact, the only sounds were that of a crackling fire and a soft breeze outside.

But as he stayed with her, being with her as she had for him, maybe there was nothing left to say.

**The End**

* * *

_A/N_

_Well, that's that done. If anyone cares. Meh._

_For what it's worth, don't have any other _Dragon Age _stories on my 'to write' list right now. Currently working on a _StarFront _story titled _Transit of Venus _for what it's worth._


End file.
